


Somewhere in the Between

by Deansy, HumsHappily, phipiohsum475



Series: American English [4]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015), Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Phone Sex, Pining, Texting, alcohol use, mention of "conversion camp"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4861571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deansy/pseuds/Deansy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HumsHappily/pseuds/HumsHappily, https://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475/pseuds/phipiohsum475
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She glared at Eggsy, “You are both fucking pining over each other, thinking the other one doesn’t want something more. Fuck this.” She started to tap out a response.<br/>The text read <i>I’m Eggsy’s friend Roxy. He’s over here pining for you, and I don’t even know you, but I can tell you’re pining for him. You both want each other, just fucking call.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Don't Know Where We Go From Here

**Author's Note:**

> You should read the first two fics in the series first for this to make complete sense.

"Don't wait up!"

Sam looked up just as the motel door slammed behind his brother, shrugging at the growl of the Impala starting up. "Here we go again," he muttered, glancing at the clock.

** 

Barely two hours later, Dean was back, shoulders held in a resigned slump as he tossed the keys on the table and walked past Sam into the dingy bathroom for a shower. 

Sam sighed, and grabbed two beers from the fridge, sitting back down. When Dean came out and threw on his clothes, Sam coughed pointedly, holding one out. "Dean."

“Thanks, man.” Dean deliberately avoided the seat across from Sam, sitting in front of the television. He turned it on, scowled, and tossed the remote on the opposite side of the couch. 

“Fucking re-runs,” he spat out bitterly, chugging half his beer in a single gulp.

Sam sighed and got up, getting the remote and clicking the television off. He sat back down and raised his eyebrows. "What's the deal?" 

“Fucking re-runs,” Dean motioned to the TV. “Same shit all the time. Nothing new.”

"Dean. You know what I'm talking about," Sam said, taking a swig of his beer. "Don't wait up, then back in two hours?" He flushed slightly but soldiered on. "You know...there's help for dudes with problems."

“Fuck you!” Dean stood up, nearly shouting. He pointed to Sam with his near empty beer, “I knew, I fucking knew you’d do this.” He finished his beer, slammed it on the table, and pulled out an unopened bottle of whiskey from his bag. “I’m not having this conversation sober. Hell, I’m not having this conversation at all.”

Sam's jaw dropped. "What the fuck, Dean? It's just a trip to a doctor, not like it's a big fucking deal. Hell, you can get it anywhere! Loads of men have your problem." He stood, yanking the bottle away before Dean could open it. "Don't be so damn touchy. You're still a man and all that bullshit."

“Oh, I know I’m a man,” Dean held his hand out for the whiskey, eyes enraged, “And I can’t believe you’d buy into all that bullshit. Fucking doctors, yeah, right, that’s what they call themselves. Head cases, the whole fuckin’ lot of ‘em. Yeah, no, Dad tried to rope me into that shit; I can’t believe you’re doing it too.”

When Sam held the bottle back, Dean rifled through his jacket for his keys, and glared at him, betrayal behind the fury, “You fucking promised, man. There’s a reason that shit’s illegal in a buncha states. I’ll get my own goddamned room.” 

"Dean, what the hell are you talking about?" Sam snapped. "It's not illegal anywhere! You can get Viagra on the streets like candy. You're gonna pretend that I'm some sorta villain just cause I  _ suggested _ your dick doesn't work anymore? And what the hell did Dad do, why are you bringing him up?" He raised his hands. "Screw you, man. I'm just trying to help. Drink your whiskey and feel sorry for yourself, keys are on the damn table. Don't fucking die again."

Dean stopped short for a moment, his ire temporarily replaced with confusion, “What the fuck does Viagra have to do with anything!?” 

Sam frowned. "What the hell did you think I was talking about? You keep going out, saying don't wait up, then you're back in like an hour. I thought you were having...problems," he said, gesturing at Dean's legs. "You know. You're getting old, dude, we both are."

“Oh.”

Placated, Dean threw the keys back on the table. “Never mind, then,” he said, “Plumbing’s great. But I want my whiskey back.”

Sam hesitated. "Not until you tell me what the fuck that was all about," he said. "I'll drink with you, but we gotta talk, Dean. Seriously, what the hell is up with you?" 

“Nothing, everything’s fine,” Dean dismissed, “Isn’t that what you were worried ‘bout? I can promise, little Dean’s just fine.” He held his hand out.

"Then why do you keep going out, and coming back in like somebody kicked your dog," Sam asked. "I was worried about that, but if it isn't "plumbing" then what's the problem?"

“Nothing you need to worry your hairy little head about. Not like you could change anything, anyways. Let’s just have a drink and call it a night, okay?” 

"Since I can't change anything, that means that there is something wrong." Sam blew out a breath. "Let's just have a drink and keep drinking until you're ready to talk about this." He unscrewed the cap from the whiskey and handed it over. "Drink, Dean."

“Now that’s more like it,” Dean smiled. He took a large gulp, then poured some between two glasses, passing one to Sam and sitting back down on the couch.

Sam gave his glass a baleful look, but took a large swig. "Where you wanna start?" he asked, staring at the powered down television as he sat too. 

“I’ve started,” Dean picked up his glass, tilting it to Sam. “How’s shit, Sammy?”

"Awesome," Sam said dryly, taking another drink. "You?"

“Fucking awesome,” Dean replied sarcastically, then joked, “And  your  plumbing? Old and rusty, yet?” 

"No complaints," Sam replied, hiding a smirk. "'Cept I can't get rid of my brother long enough to get 'em properly checked."

“Dude, you need me out, man, I’m out. I’ll get another room right now,” Dean offered.

Sam waved his hand. "It's whatever. Not like I've got people chomping at the bit for me."

Dean was quiet for a moment, then finally admitted, “Thought you meant one of those straight camps, or shrinks, or whatever. Sorry for getting pissed.”

Sam blinked. "Dean...no man. What the hell? Why would you ever think that?" He frowned. "Wait. Did dad...?" 

“He tried. Forgot he’d also taught me how to escape just about anything; spent two months living on the streets in Omaha; thank god it was a summer camp,” Dean laughed, “Came back after; Dad was pissed. ‘Course they told ‘im I was missing, but I didn’t think it through, y’know?”

Dean’s smile faded, “Remember when Dad started gettin’ me my own room?”

"Yeah," Sam said quietly. "Because of me, right? He didn't want you to try shit or something?" 

“Yep. Saw me kiss a guy; immediately assumed I’d fuck around with you,” Dean swallowed the rest of his whiskey, “That’s fucking sick, man. I couldn’t-” Dean looked at his empty glass, and grabbed the whiskey bottle, filling it up halfway. “Anyways, thought that’s what you meant. Didn’t mean to go off on you.”

"It's fine," Sam said, taking another swig and swallowing hard. "I get it. Besides....I'm not worried. I mean, you aren't even my type." He sent an encouraging smile to his brother. "Really Dean. It's fine. And whatever is bugging you right now, you can tell me dude. I'm not gonna judge." 

Dean knew,  _ he knew _ it was the whiskey talking, but he started anyways. “It’s just- the sex isn’t the same anymore.”

"Since when?" Sam asked in surprise. "Same as what?" 

“Let’s just say,” Dean paused, reluctant but letting the whiskey act as his guide, “I had an experience. With someone. And it was great. Awesome. Best sex I’ve ever had. And you know that joke they tell ‘bout what pizza and sex have in common? Even when it’s bad it’s still good?”

Dean took another sip, “Yeah, turns out that’s not the case.”

Sam nodded, thinking over Dean's conquests and ordering them in a time line. "Right...is it cause you sorta had a connection with one person, and now you're ruined for anyone else?" He took another drink, emptying his glass. "Finally figured out that trust and a connection make the sex better. Maybe, uh feelings for the person?”

“Dunno. All I know, is I try to get it going with someone, and I got someone else on my mind. Not fair y’know?” Dean shrugged, “I mean, I know when I pick someone up, it’s a one night thing, but wishin’ they were someone else? That’s a dick move.”

"So call whoever it was up?" Sam asked, glancing at him. "Unless there's a reason you can't....." 

“You know that can’t work,” Dean scoffed, “You’ve seen our lives. Like you told Adam, can’t have those connections, just gets ‘em killed.”

"It wouldn't if the person was another hunter," Sam said, reaching for the whiskey. "Or at least knew how to handle themselves. Even better if they stayed....far away." 

Dean rolled his eyes, “Okay, fine. You know who I’m talking about. But you get why it can’t work, yeah? I just need to get over it. Never been an issue before so it’s takin’ me some time to figure it out is all.”

Dean finished off his glass again, needing the liquid courage for this sort of honesty, “Apparently, it’s not like buying a new puppy when the old one dies.”

"Fuck it, Dean. You ever felt like this about someone? No. Call him up. So it doesn't work. Who cares? You need closure or something." Sam gave a laugh that could almost be considered bitter. "Besides. Can't be any worse than sitting in a cheap motel drinking whiskey with your little brother, right? Don't miss out on something that you could have, just cause you think you can't." 

“He’s got my number. He’ll call if he wants.” Dean lied. He didn’t think Eggsy’d ever call him again. ‘Sides, what am I supposed to do? It’s not like I can get a passport.”

"You can call him too. Phones work both ways, dude. He obviously has cash, maybe he'll take a vacation here." 

“Dude, I’m not a catch. I ain’t worth a vacation, ‘specially not to another country entirely. Don’t want him to waste his time stuck with me.” Dean’s voice grew soft and melancholy. “How do you do it? You’ve had to get over people before, what’s the trick to it? It’s been ten fucking months over one night. Shouldn’t I be over this shit by now?”

Sam shrugged. "I'm still not over them," he said quietly. "But...I'm not letting it stop me, because I don't care. I'm not measuring other people against them, I can't afford too. But.." He hesitated. "When I was with Jess. I was totally happy. Everyone after her sucks in comparison. But Jess is dead, so I take what I can get." 

Dean sighed bitterly. “Sounds ‘bout right. Once you have a taste of what you really want, nothing else is quite as sweet.” 

They sat quietly for a while, finishing their drinks. Sam’s head began to nod, and it was entirely the whiskey’s idea, but Dean pulled out his cell. 

He scrolled to Eggsy’s number, and slowly wrote out in text two simple words. This phone was new, probably wouldn’t even register on Eggsy’s phone as his. So he told the truth. 

<Miss you.>

-o- 

Eggsy was mixing the post mission drinks at Roxy’s; celebrating the preemptive destruction of what could have been the Second Cold War.

“Make it stronger this time,” Roxy hollered from the reclining chair. She might have been slighter than Eggsy, but she could hold her liquor just as well. Eggsy’s mobile vibrated on the end table, and she picked it up. 

“Aww, ickle Eggsy-kins,” she teased, “Your mummy misses you.”

"My mum messaging me?" Eggsy asked. "Sure it ain't yours?" Roxy snorted and handed it to him as he walked back over with the drinks. Eggsy glanced at the message then the number. "Ain't my mum, Rox," he said. "This is a number from the States." He considered it for a moment, then typed out a reply. 

<New number, Tiger?>

Roxy sipped at her drink, determined it would do, then asked, “Who do  you  know in the States?”

Eggsy raised an eyebrow. "A dead man," he said. "I migh' need a bit more to drink before I explain anymore." 

Roxy nodded, “I’ll beat you to the bottom of this one, and make us some fresh drinks?” She put on a wry smile, “Something actually good, not just passable?”

"Prick," Eggsy said without venom, then threw his head back, chugging his glass. He ignored Roxy's look as he handed the glass over with a flushed grin.

She shook her head and did the same, getting up to make more. "His name is Dean," Eggsy said, watching her. "One night. And the morning after. Hell, the afternoon too. All day." He shook his head. "An' I woulda stayed for more." 

Roxy mixed together two more drinks, “Sounds like he wished you would have. But it’s a bit hard to explain the international spy bit, yeah? Normal people just don’t understand the lifestyle.”

Eggsy chuckled. "Tha' wouldn't have been a problem. He uh....had a special gig too. Real messy kinda job," he said, mind flashing back to tight muscles and a trail of dried blood as his thumb washed it away in the water. 

“Go see him then,” Roxy handed him another drink, “This last mission should earn you at least a week off.” She sat down, drank of bit of her own drink, and with an exaggerated sigh, said “Ah! Much better. A  _ gentleman - _ ” she glared at Eggsy, “-should be able to make a decent cocktail.”

Before he could reply, she asked, “So what was he like? Some cute, young thing, swooned the  minute he saw you in a suit?”

Eggsy smirked. "Hell no, Rox. He's fit. Muscles, boots, scars. And the greenest damn eyes I ever seen." He took a drink. "And he's older." Eggsy looked over at her. "I gotta picture. Wanna see?" 

“Oh, definitely,” She sat upright on the sofa, crossing her legs underneath her. “Why do you have a picture? That might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

"Shut up," Eggsy scowled. "It's jus' his mugshot." Eggsy pulled out his tablet from between the cushions, unlocking it and handing it over after pulling Dean's Kingsman file up. "Merlin lemme have access to this, since I was the contact point wit' Kingsman." He smiled at the recollection of the other picture of Dean he did have, not that he'd admit to it. He'd snagged his phone and quickly snapped a picture at a point where Dean had fallen asleep on his chest. The older man's lashes had been brushing the top of his cheeks, lips slightly parted and face flushed. The light from the small part in the curtain had fallen just across his shoulders, and Eggsy had been loath to get up and close them, because then he'd lose the illumination across Dean's skin. The illumination that had turned his skin golden, to match the amber droplets Eggsy knew he could find in Dean's eyes. "Wha'?" He asked, flashing back to the present at Roxy's small noise of amusement. "Fuckin' class innit 'e?"

Roxy had a bright smile to match to match her rosy cheeks, and she held up her hand in defense before she even started, “Okay, yes, I can see that he’s probably pretty hot. But he’s doing the whole ‘Blue Steel’ pose? And it’s a  _ mugshot, _ Eggsy.” She gave a teasing smile, “I didn’t know a bit of rough could have his own bit of rough.”

"We bits o’ rough gotta stick together," Eggsy said defensively, snatching the tablet back. "Besides, ain't like I don't have my own issues." He scowled. "He lives 'cross the ocean. Even if I do visit, ain't gonna work. He doesn't want a thing wit' me." 

“No, Eggsy, I didn’t mean it that way. I think it’s sweet,” Roxy said apologetically. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had, well,  _ feelings  _ for the guy. Just thought you meant he was a good shag.” 

She patted Eggsy’s arm, then frowned, yanking the tablet out of his hands, “Hold on, this says he’s been dead for years? Wanted for murder? The hell, Eggsy?”

Eggsy grinned. "Well, to be fair, we kill people all the time," he said, placatingly raising his hands. "Not murder if the guys already dead, righ'? He's a fixit guy. Takes out serial killers and shit. Ask Merlin if you don' believe me."

“Just- be careful. I mean, I know you can handle yourself, but this-” She handed the tablet back to Eggsy, “-him, he’s a whole other sort of trouble, you know? You sure he’s worth it?” 

Eggsy considered the picture of Dean on the screen. "Ya know....it was only supposed ta be a shag. But now? I just wish he was here. So yeah, I'm sure, Rox." 

She cradled her drink in her hands, “So why him? What makes him special?”

"I dunno..." Eggsy said, fiddling with one of her hair ties that had found its way onto his wrist. "He just...we worked, you know? He needed somethin' and I had it." He smiled fondly. "It was good. We connected an' all that shit. He made me smile, but he could keep up. He even liked Dr. Sexy."

Roxy grinned, “That’s kind of beautiful, Eggsy. I mean, that’s seriously sweet as fuck. You should call, or text, or set up some sort of a fake Facebook account just to chat with him. He texted you tonight, didn’t he?”  

"Yeah. Dunno if he texted back, yet." Eggsy dug out his phone and hesitated. "Look, Rox. You ain't gonna take the piss, are you? Like...just not about this, all right?"

“No, dear,” She placed her head affectionately on Eggsy’s shoulder, “I can tell it matters to you. I may not personally understand the whole relationship thing, but honestly, the look on your face is enough. Won’t even mention it, unless you want me to.”  

Eggsy shared a relieved smile. "Thanks, Rox. You're the gov'ner. Oh shit. He did message back. I can't look, what's it say?" He asked, holding the phone out to her. 

Roxy looked, and sighed, “You are both so fucking stupid.” She ran her hand down her face, then read the text. “He says ‘ _ Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you. Just a bit drunk, you can ignore me . _ ’” 

She glared at Eggsy, “You are both fucking pining over each other, thinking the other one doesn’t want something more. Fuck this.” She started to tap out a response.

"Oi! What are you typing?" Eggsy asked, trying to snatch the phone back. "Rox!" 

She warded him off until she finished and hit ‘send’, then tossed him the phone. “That ought to clear things up.”

The text read <I’m Eggsy’s friend Roxy. He’s over here pining for you, and I don’t even know you, but I can tell you’re pining for him. You both want each other, just fucking call.>


	2. Back by Popular Demand

"Rox!" Eggsy snapped. "What the fuck? What am I supposed to say if he does call. I-" He was interrupted by the phone buzzing in his hand. "Fuck." Roxy hit the button and shoved the phone up to his ear. "Hello."

“Eggsy?” Dean asked, unsure if Eggsy's friend was just fucking with him.

"H..hey, tiger," Eggsy said, licking his lips and getting up to go in the other room. "Missed hearin' your voice."

Dean’s voice grew softer and he couldn’t stop his smile from erupting. He looked over to Sam, who seemed passed out on the couch, and answered, “Missed you callin’ me tiger.”

"Yeah, probably shoulda called," Eggsy admitted. "Didn' know if you'd wanna hear from me."

“‘Course I did,” Dean frowned to himself; apparently the whiskey was still taking the reins. “I mean, it’s nice to have someone to talk to other than Sammy, y’know?” Dean stood up and slipped his boots on.

"Yeah, I get that," Eggsy said. "Don't have many people besides my friend Rox. She's uh, she's the one who stole my phone." He smiled into the phone and sat down on the bed behind him. "So you see that latest episode of Dr. Sexy?"

Dean opened the motel door, and quietly shut it behind him. “Yeah, got Sammy to download it for me. That Dr. Codel’s a real fucking piece of work.” He thought for a moment, “Does it actually show on the tv over there, or do you have like, satellite or some shit?”

"I got American channels," Eggsy said, settling back on the pillows. "But it's always on real late."

“Yeah, my schedule’s a bit fucked, so we pretty much download everything.” Dean climbed into the backseat of the Impala. “That episode was on tonight,” he admitted, “The one we watched at your place.”

"Did you watch it and think of me?" Eggsy asked, intending to tease but failing as his voice went soft.

“I threw the remote across the room,” Dean thought back to earlier that night, “It just- it kinda-” Dean rubbed his face with his hand. “Fuck, I’m shit at this.”

"Why'd you throw it?" Eggsy asked. "I'm pretty shit at this too, so at least we're speakin' the same language, yeah?"

“‘Cause it fucking-” Dean stopped, “Okay, let’s start with that night.” Dean knew he didn’t need to specify. “It was awesome, yeah? Thing is, I’ve never had nothing like that before. But I knew you were leaving and it was just supposed to be like, one great night, right?”

Dean paused, not sure he was making sense.

"Yeah," Eggsy said eagerly. "It was supposed to be one night and so it's real stupid but I gotta week off work comin' up an'..." He hesitated. "An' all I could think about was getting back. Over there. An' maybe like...meeting up?" He licked his lips nervously. "Cause I did miss you, tiger. An' we could meybbe, you know."

“Seriously?” Dean asked in disbelief, “You’d come all the way- You’d fly here, just to see me?”

"Well yeah," Eggsy said, a sinking feeling forming in his stomach. "I mean, unless you...don't wan' me to. I don't have to. Jus' an idea..."

“What? No!” Dean panicked, “It’s just- I mean, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again. And if I did, I figured it’d be ‘cause you were on a job. I mean, hell, I just told Sammy tonight there was no way you’d waste vacation time on me.” Dean cringed, “Fuck, he’s never gonna let me live this down.”

Eggsy let out a relieved laugh. "Rox ain't gonna let me live it down either, guv." He smiled. "So. I gotchu on the phone. What next? Pretty late for both of us, need a bedtime story?" he teased.

“Need a helluva lot more than that, you have no idea,” Dean joked back.

"Yeah?" Eggsy asked. "Whaddya need, tiger?"

“I need to get laid,” Dean groaned, “But apparently, I need you for that.” Instantly he grimaced; he hadn’t meant to say that, or at least not quite like that.

"Well, I'll be there in two weeks," Eggsy said, chuckling. "Course, I could help out a lil'. If you're alone."

“Alone enough,” Dean remarked. It might not be the real thing, but hearing Eggsy’s voice was better than anything he’d had since having Eggsy himself.

Eggsy got off the bed and locked the door. "You gonna just lay back an' lemme get you excited?" he asked, climbing back onto the bed.

“I’m in the Impala, but it’s a shady motel; poor lighting.” Dean gave him a visual, “And yeah, fuck, just hearing your voice has me half staff.”

"I knew you liked your car, but I didn' know you liked her tha' much," Eggsy teased.

“You laugh, but you spend every fucking night sharing a motel room with your damned brother. And the showers suck. It’s uh, what’s that called, pavlovian?”

"I think it's called, "Dean pops a stiff one" every time he gets in his car," Eggsy said. "It's fine. I mean, unless you wan' me to leave you two alone, I'm more than willin' to help out. Since I'm on a bed an' all. Do I hafta tell you wha' your voice does to me, or you gonna guess?"

“I kinda wanna hear you say it,” Dean confessed, starting to tease himself through his jeans.

"I'm hard already, tiger," Eggsy purred into the phone. "But I know you. Bet you're already touching yourself, ain't you?"

Dean hummed his agreement, then stopped and checked, in a deferential tone, “That okay?"

"Mm only cause you asked," Eggsy replied. "Don' take yourself out until I tell you. Now," he said, smiling and licking his lips.  "I'm gonna be there in two weeks. You gonna meet me at the hotel?"

“Long as you tell me when and where, I’ll be there.”

"I will," Eggsy promised. "So you're gonna meet me there. Then what do you wan' ta happen? 'Cause I got an idea...."

“I got all sorts of ideas,” Dean answered, “but at some point, they all involve you fucking my throat.”

"Tha' could be arranged," Eggsy said, giving in and loosening his zip. "See, I was thinkin' that when I saw you, I'd take you up to my room. Strip you down to nothin'. You wanna know what happens next?"

“Yeah,” Dean exhaled, heart pounding.

"Take yer cock out first," Eggsy said, doing the same. "Wrap your hand around it, righ' at the bottom."

Dean tried to keep from panting into the phone. “Unbuttoning my jeans, zipper down, oh, fuck, I don’t know how it can feel so much better when it’s still my fucking hand. Hand just at the base; damn, sweetheart, I’ve already started leaking.”

Eggsy chuckled. "Cause you're talkin' to fuckin' Austin Powers reincarnate, 'member tiger? Now, after you're naked, I'd push you to your knees. You'd like that, wouldn' you?"

“Oh, yeah. Please,” Dean shut his eyes and tilted his head back, imagining looking up at Eggsy from his knees. “You wearing that suit?”

"Course, tiger. I won't even take it off. Just gonna pull my cock out, shove it down your throat." Eggsy stroked himself slowly. "Gonna fuck your mouth. Then you know what I'll do?"

“Can I- please, can I-” Dean stuttered, having not moved his hand without permission, and desperate for contact.

"Ask me properly, tiger," Eggsy said, then let a soft moan escape him.

Dean gulped, Eggsy’s moan giving him goosebumps, “Please- please may I- stroke myself?”

"Yeah, luv. Make yourself feel good. Tell me what you're doing."

Dean whimpered as he finally slid his hand up the length of his cock. “I’m- in the backseat, jeans unzipped, cock out, and finally-” Dean gave a low groan, “-Finally touching myself. I’m so fucking hard, you have no idea, thinking about being on my knees, your fist in my hair, shovin’ your cock past my lips, and I’m just here, letting you use me, and fucking up into my own fist because it feels so fucking good when you claim me like that.”

"God, you're already fuckin' wrecked, ain't you?" Eggsy asked. "Maybe I'll stop right before I come. Push you up against a wall, fuck you hard. You want tha'?" He groaned, sliding a thumb over the slit of his cock. "Or maybe I'll come all over your face. You want tha' instead?"

“Yes, that, oh fuck, Eggsy,” Dean panted. “I’m close, shit, I need to hear more; keep me on my knees, let me look up at you when you come.”

Eggsy moaned again. "I'll do that. Then I pull you up, push you over the bed. You been good, maybe I open you up with my tongue. Anyone ever done that for you, tiger?"

“No, never,” Dean bit back another moan. “It’d feel so fucking filthy, ‘specially if you were still drippin’ down my face, yeah? I’m ready, fuck, please Eggsy, please tell me I can come soon,” Dean begged.

"What if I didn't?" Eggsy asked, biting back another moan. "What if I said you had to wait?"

Dean paused his hand and whimpered. His voice nearly broke, and in a ragged whisper, he said, “Then I’d do it. I’d wait for you.” Dean took in a deep breath, and spoke up a bit, “Fuck, I don’t want to, but I would, you know that, yeah?”

"I know. Come for me," Eggsy said. "Dean, I want to hear you come. Yer so good for me, tiger." He stroked himself faster, waiting to hear the hitch in Dean's breath, his moans.

“Thank you,” Dean exhaled, and within just a few moments, he came over his fist with short, staccato gasps. As he came down from his orgasm, he mumbled in a low growl, “Eggsy, oh hell. Fuck, Eggsy.”

"Fuckin' hell tiger, the way you say my name," Eggsy panted. "'M gonna come," he gasped and quickly came, catching it in a few tissues from beside the bed. "Fuck, Dean. You don't know wha' power you have," Eggsy mumbled, catching his breath.

Dean leaned his head back, chest still heaving, “This is… so much better than I thought my night was gonna be.” He looked down at his hand and laughed, “Bit messier though.”

"Yeah? Got a camera on that phone?" Eggsy said, only half teasing. "I'm glad you called, tiger."

“Not sure what’d you be able to see, it’s pretty dark out here,” Dean grinned. With a content sigh, he said, “Glad I called, too. You, uh, still serious ‘bout coming over?”

Eggsy smiled. "Vampires couldn't keep me away, guv. Where are you by? I'll fly in somewhere 'round there."

“No clue where I’ll be in two weeks. Pick someplace you wanna hang out, and I’ll ditch Sam and meet ya there.”

"I dunno man. Somewhere big city. Skyscrapers and shit," Eggsy said with a chuckle, tucking himself away.

“Sounds good,” Dean agreed, “We can go ‘round like tourists, be fucking normal for once, yeah?”

"Yeah," Eggsy said quietly. "Tha' sounds...real nice."

Dean licked his lips. Later he’d blame his confession on the whiskey, or the post-coital high, but for now, in the dark, he confessed, “I’ve missed you. More than I probably should.”

Eggsy sighed. "You know wha', tiger? Me too. Me too."

“You know, I’ve always wanted to spend more time in Seattle. Drove through couple a times for a case; how’s that sound?”

"Sounds like I'm gonna book a plane ticket and a hotel room."

“Text me the date and time when you do?”

"Hell yeah," Eggsy chuckled. He smiled again, wetting his lips. "You know...its a fuckin' shame I can't kiss you righ' now," he said quietly. "Wish I could."

Dean sighed wistfully, “Yeah, sweetheart. Me too.”

"Righ'" Eggsy said, swallowing hard. "Two weeks. We can do tha'. Made it about a year already. I guess....I'll let you get to bed? I should probably..."

“Yeah, I don’t wanna go either,” Dean said, “But yeah, two weeks. But, uh, text me if you can? Something to hold me over?”

Eggsy grinned. "I think I can manage to do tha'," he said. "But you better message me too. This number good for a while? Or should I just use the other one?"

“This one’s good for now. I guess… I’ll talk to you later?”

"Yeah," Eggsy said. "Don' be afraid to call neither. If I can, I'll pick up." He bit his lip, unwilling to put the phone down. "Uh...I guess, this is good night, huh tiger?"

“Yeah, I- sleep well, Eggsy, kay? Dream of me?”

"Have been already, don' know why I wouldn't tonight," Eggsy admitted softly. "You gonna think of me too?"

“Always,” Dean couldn’t believe how open he felt, how much easier it was to tell Eggsy these things than anyone else. He didn’t know how he was going to last two more weeks.

"G'night, tiger," Eggsy said, unwilling to hang up.

“You know what, fuck this,” Dean said, “Gimme a sec.” He set the phone down on the seat, took off his flannel and cleaned himself up. He tucked his cock back into his pants, and picked up the phone again. “I don’t care if it makes me a fourteen year old fucking girl, but I’m gonna go into the room, climb into bed, and fall asleep. And I’m gonna keep you on the line the whole damn time.”

Eggsy grinned. "Know wha'? That sounds class. Lemme go get my dog and get rid of Rox. I'll take you with me. Then, I'm gonna go to bed too."

A stupid smile overtook Dean, and he was glad to be in the dark where no one could see. “Kay, I’m going in, you tell me when you get back, yeah?”

"Yeah. 'Less you wanna say hi to Rox," Eggsy said, binning the tissues and fastening his jeans again. "Just gonna put you on the pillow, yeah?"

“You met Sammy, seems only fair I get to meet someone of yours, yeah?” Dean joked, staying in the parking lot in case Eggsy was serious.

"Yeah. Here, don't mind what she says, she's jus' takin' the piss," Eggsy said, hopping off the bed and unlocking the door. He stepped out, looking for Roxy as JB waddled over for attention. "Well, I got the dog. Not sure about Rox."

“You gotta mutt?” Dean asked, curious.

Eggsy scowled. "I gotta dog. Pure bred. Killin' machine, ain't that right?" He cooed, scratching behind JB's ears. "Dogs off limits, he said to Dean. "You got baby, I got JB. Nearly lost my job over this fucker," he said fondly.

“Loyal then,” Dean understood, “With you through everything?”

"Yeah," Eggsy said. "I'll send you a picture tomorrow when I have the flight details." He grinned. Can't believe I'll be there in two weeks."

Dean asked cautiously, “You bringing- is it JB?” He wasn’t fond of dogs in his Baby, and he’d have to do some prep work if he was expected to host a dog as well.

"Nah, Rox watches him when I have missions, and I watch hers. He'll stay here," Eggsy said, hearing footsteps. "Oh, here's Roxy. She's drunk already."

Roxy looked at him with confusion as Eggsy offered her the phone, then understood, “Oh! You’re still talking to him!” She looked him up and down, and grinned, “You naughty little fucker, you.”

She grabbed the phone and asked bluntly, “What’s up with the murder charges before your death?”

Dean’s eyes grew wide; this chick didn’t fucking play around. “It’s uh, complicated. Someone who looked a lot like me killed a few people, and when the cops killed him, they thought it was me. Easier for me to be assumed dead in my job, so I went with it.”

“They have DNA testing in the States, yeah?”

“Like I said, it’s complicated, sweetheart.”

“I’m not your fucking sweetheart. I know sixteen different ways to fucking kill you and not leave a goddamned trace, you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean deferred, not wanting to upset any of Eggsy’s friends. And honestly, he’d seen what Eggsy could do in a vamp nest, and guessed she was probably trained the same way. “I do apologize. Didn’t mean nothing by it. But I promise you, my intentions are almost entirely honorable when it comes to Eggsy.”

“Almost?”

“You’ve seen that ass, right?”

Roxy laughed, “I have. I have indeed. But I don’t have anything he wants, and apparently you do. He’s my best friend, you be good to him, Dean.”

“I promise you, I’ll treat him like goddamned prince.”

Roxy could hear the kindness of his voice, the honesty of his confession. “Alright, Dean. You’re alright. But you break his heart, I’ll fucking kill you again, understood.”

“Understood.”

Roxy handed the phone back to Eggsy with a drunken beam. “I like him,” she announced.

"Great, Rox, so do I," Eggsy said dryly. "C'mon, let's get you to the spare bed. Dean, I'll be righ' back, kay tiger?"

“Kay, sweetheart. I’m headed inside, so I’m gonna whisper after this.” Dean was giddy, but he kept it in; he’d been introduced to Eggsy’s fucking friends. That’d never happened before; he was always the one night stand, the start of a drunken stumble home, but never this.

"Righ'," Eggsy said and set the phone on the couch. "Jus' had to threaten him, didn' you, guv?" he said conversationally, nudging Roxy down the corridor. "Good thing you didn't scare him off." She mumbled something snarky in reply, and he chuckled, pushing the door open and tipping her into the bed. "Night, Rox."

He came back out, grabbing the phone and heading back to his bedroom. "Hey tiger. Just gonna get these jeans off, then I'm all yours, guv."

“Good,” Dean whispered. “I’ve got you here on the pillow.”

Eggsy grinned, kicking off his jeans and pulling off his shirt.. "This is...this is really fuckin' cute," he said, flopping onto the bed, JB curled at the foot already. "An' you sound real sexy when you whisper."

“Christ, I know. I said it didn’t matter if it made me a fucking fourteen year old, y’know? But you couldn’t hang up same as me, so it’s just as much your fucking fault,” Dean teased in a quiet voice.

"Yeah, but I ain't gonna," Eggsy said. "Rox said it was cute that I had your mugshot saved, so I'm obviously winning the cute but creepy as hell contest."

“No,” Dean said carefully, “I think I still got you beat.”

"Aw, you ain't weirded out, are you?" Eggsy said hesitantly.

No, just worried I might freak you out. I, uh,” Dean gulped, anxious, but finding himself drawn to confess, “I’ve tried to get over you. And I can’t. It’s led to some… incidents.”

"You mean no one’s as good as me?" Eggsy drawled. "Look, it ain't gonna freak me out. I had time for maybe one, two people. And...neither one of them were you, ya know?" He sighed. "We stumbled on sommat here. An' I dunno what, but it's....it's good, Dean."

Dean sighed, relieved. Still in a soft voice he said, “I tried, you know? But all I could think about was you, and it didn’t seem right. Even Sammy fucking noticed. But you and me, that was different, yeah?”

"I think so," Eggsy said. "I though' so then, too....just didn't wanna act like some clingy broad, you know?"

“Fucking right?!” Dean exclaimed, at almost full volume, then hushed again, “That’s exactly how I fucking felt - like I was caught up in some teenage crush. I can’t- It’s fucking mind blowing you were thinkin’ the same thing.”

"Min' blowin's the word for it," Eggsy agreed with a quiet chuckle. "I jus' felt so comfortable wit' you. Like, I fuckin' laid down and fell asleep wit' you. I don' do tha', Dean. Gone through some pretty fucked up shit in my life....and just relaxin' like I did...don' happen. I don't understand it," Eggsy said quietly. He sighed. "Sorry, tiger. Been up for 'bout thirty two hours now. Don' mind me getting all emotional on you"

“I get it, sweetheart, I do,” Dean whispered, near sleep himself. “I could see us, in another life, couple of guys, white picket fence and a fantastic grill, with a few mutts, and JB to lead ‘em, just together, you know? No one cares, Sammy’s got his law degree, mom’s not dead, like a fucking djinn life, y’know?”

"Not sure wha' tha' last bit means, but yeah, Dean. I do. Dad ain't dead, Harry ain't dead. Got somewhere of my own to come home ta, with a real nice kitchen. Maybe I still compete." He sighed, eyes closing. "I can see it in my head, tiger. Someone to come home to...someone jus' like you. Be class, wouldn' it?"

Dean hummed agreeably, eyes closed, letting Eggsy's voice lull him to sleep.

****  
  



	3. Almost

Dean woke abruptly to Sam shaking his shoulder. “The hell, dude?”

"Who are you on the phone with?" Sam asked, not waiting for an answer. "Anyway, it's time to check out."

Dean realized the phone was still laying next to him, battery almost dead. He checked, the call had dropped sometime during the night. He smiled, picking up the phone almost delicately, and stood. He stretched, and looked around.

“Where’s my-” Dean stopped as he remembered exactly why he wasn’t wearing his flannel, and grinned again. He looked at Sam, “We all set then? My toothbrush still in the bathroom or did you pack it already?”

"No, go brush your teeth then throw it in the bag," Sam said, stretching. "I'm gonna change and take a quick shower, so hurry up."

Dean brushed his teeth, tossing his toothbrush in the bag when he was done, and fishing out a new flannel. As Sam hopped in the shower, he pulled out his phone.

<Morning, sweetheart.>

He set the phone down to pick up the duffels, lugging them out to the car.

<Afternoon, Tiger. Booked the trip.> Eggsy replied with a grin. He grabbed JB, plopping him on his lap and snapped a picture, sending it to Dean before going to put on his suit.

"Dean?" Sam called stepping out of the shower. "Your phone is going off." He rolled his eyes and grabbed it to turn off the alert.

The door opened, and Dean was talking before he even entered the room, “Dropped off the keys to the front desk, so we’re-” Dean stopped cold at the sight of his phone in Sam’s hand. “What’re you doing with my phone?”

"Tiger?" Sam asked, biting back a grin. "Eggsy's cute outta a suit, man." He held out the phone. "Booked a trip, huh? Got somethin' you need to share?"

Dean snatched the phone from Sam’s hand with growl, “Yeah, going on vacation. Figure out where you wanna go, ‘cause I’m dropping your ass off for a week.”

He glared at Sam, daring him to say something, then looked down at the phone. He broke out into a fond grin; Sam was right, it was a good picture. Even the dog was kinda cute.

"Man, you are so far gone," Sam said, shaking his head with a smile. "Happy for you dude. C'mon. Let's go." He raised an eyebrow as Dean's phone went off.

<Seattle Four Seasons. 10th-18th. Good tiger?>

<Awesome. I’ll be there.>

Dean pocketed the phone, and pointed to Sam, “This is your fucking fault.” He smirked as he said it, and nodded to the parking lot. “Ready?”

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said. "I'm not the one who went home with him."

**

<Did you know that super villains are real? You'd believe me, wouldn't you? They're crap though. Stupid fucker tried to blow up the tube.>

"Texting yer boyfriend?" Merlin asked, startling Eggsy into dropping his phone.

"No," Eggsy scowled. "Jus' messagin' mum. Need milk at the house."

Merlin raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. "Paperwork, Galahad," he said, turning away as he tapped at his tablet. "Now."

-o-

Dean laughed reading Eggsy’s text, and messaged back.

<I can do super villains, if you can do werewolves. Got a new scar to show you.>

He waited a moment, then added, <12 days.>

-o-

Eggsy didn't get Dean's message until later that night. <New scar? Hope you won't be too banged up before I get to you.>

<11 days now. For me anyway>

-o-

<Werewolves have a nasty habit of trying to eat your fucking heart out. Good thing they’re allergic to silver.>

<Dreamt about you last night, but couldn’t call. Had to sleep in Baby on the side of the road last night.>

-o-

Dean looked at the number on his phone; it was a weird number, like Eggsy’s, but not his. He opened the text.

It was picture of Eggsy, slumped over in a fancy chair, suit slightly crumpled, asleep with his arms crossed. He had a soft smirk on his face, and the text read <Thought you’d like to see your boy slacking off at work - Roxy>

Dean laughed out loud, and texted her back a quick thanks. Then he messaged Eggsy <Wish I got to sleep on the job.>

-o-

<I was up for like 24 hours, guv. And Rox is banned from sending you anything else.>

"Dean, phone," Sam said, stepping out of the bathroom. "Oh." He paused at the sight of Dean, hunched over with earbuds and the laptop, engrossed in an episode of Dr. Sexy. He smirked and grabbed his phone from the table, snapping a quick picture and sending it to Eggsy. <He's busy right now. Dr. Sexy is on.>

<Sam?>

<Yeah>

<Tell him I said 8 days. And I'm going to bed. Thanks, guv.>

<Sure. Thanks for making him happy.>

-o-

Dean swore. He’d agreed on one last case before seeing Eggsy, but it’d turned into a disaster. Six kids were dead, they’d been outed as fakes, and were hiding from the cops as they tried to kill the wendigo chomping its way through a small Wisconsin town.

Worst yet, at least to Dean, was that he’d lost his phone two days into the hunt, and their outlaw status prevented him from picking up a burner at the gas station. Dean was pissed. He was ready to torch that fucker.

"Dean, just use mine. Call him," Sam said with an exasperated sigh. "I managed to charge it a bit, use it." He dug his phone out, shoving it in his brother's hands. "Seriously dude. It's worth it."

“I don’t have his number,” Dean growled, “It was in the fucking phone when I jumped into the fucking lake!”

"Oh my god, is that it?" Sam asked. "I've got his fucking number, stupid." He snatched the phone back, scrolling to his messages to Eggsy. "Here. Go nuts."

Dean stormed off with a repressed, “Thanks.” As the phone rang, he realized how deep he’d fallen for Eggsy. It’d been four days since he’d talked to him last, and already his chest ached with the need to hear his voice.

Eggsy swore silently as his phone began to ring, and pulled it out, quickly hitting reject before the dull noise could give his position away. He hated to do it to Sam, but the job came first, if he wanted to make it out alive to see Dean in a few more days. He shook away the pang of worry that struck him at the thought that Sam was calling, not Dean, visions of injuries dancing in his mind.

Roxy glanced over at him and he shook his head, taking a deep breath. He couldn't worry now. Not when he was so close to dealing with the target.

Dean swore again as the phone immediately went to voicemail. He ended the call, wishing he could throw it into a wall. “I’m fucking done with this, Sam. I’ll set the entire fucking forest on fire if I have to; I’m ganking the son of bitch.”

He pushed the phone into Sam’s chest, “Remember the rougarou? That flame thrower you cobbled together? What do we need, again? There’s enough garages out here to break into.”

Sam blinked. "Need something that'll spark, need fuel, preferably aerosol or something easy to do so. Few pipes, something I can use to weld it together. But Dean, you gotta chill. He's probably working or something. We'll get this thing, then straight to Seattle. Chill."

Dean ignored the latter part of Sam’s speech, and snapped, “I’m gonna get what we need, you coming or staying?”

"I'll come," Sam said quickly, grabbing his flannel. "Let's go."

**

Eggsy groaned as he tugged his phone out of his pocket, glaring at the cracked screen. The nurse stitching him up glared, swatting his hand. "No mobile devices," she said sourly. "And stop moving young man."

"Yeah, missus. No problem," Eggsy said, sitting docilely and waiting for her to finish. As soon as she did, he was off the bed and out in the hall.

"Rox!" He hissed, poking his head into the woman's room. "Rox, lemme borrow your phone."

Her back was turned to him, and she was tugging off her undershirt awkwardly, so that the nurse could examine her bruises, and the laceration that she was pretty sure didn’t need stitches. She looked back at Eggsy with a glare, then motioned to the table by the door. “It’s over there. And next time, knock.”

"'S an emergency," Eggsy said, darting in and snatching it up. "Besides, I seen it all before remember? I'm too rough for you."

“Doesn’t mean you get a free show,” she shooed him away, “Scram.”

"Thanks Rox," Eggsy said and ducked out again. He leaned up against the wall, dialing Sam's number with nerves boiling in his stomach.

**

"Dean. Your boyfriend callin' or something. Overseas number," Sam said, tinkering at the picnic table. "Come get the phone, I've got gas on my hands."

Dean walked over to get the phone out of Sam’s pocket. As he pulled back and answered the call, his arm, sprinkled with fuel from the flamethrower he’d just built, brushed awkwardly against the fabric of the duffel they’d used, sending a spark of static electricity.

His arm went up in flames, and he dropped the phone, hollering, “Mother fucking shit, son of a bitch, fuck! Oh fuck!”

Eggsy immediately relaxed, despite the muffled cursing he could hear. Dean and Sam were both fine it seemed, since he could hear Sam swearing too and something that sounded like a carpet was being beaten. He couldn't help but grin, just listening to whatever was going on on the other end.

Dean tore his shirt off, stomping on it until the flames went out. He took a few deep breaths, and looked around. “Shit. Where’d the phone go?”

Sam pointed under the table and winced as Dean ducked for it, smacking his head on the way out.

"Tiger?" Eggsy said, the most recent curse sounding very close to the microphone.

Dean felt significant tension seep from his body at the sound of Eggsy’s voice. “This has been the worst fucking week, man. The 10th can’t come soon enough.” Dean walked out of Sam’s earshot, but stayed close enough by to see him.

"Tell me about it," Eggsy said, prodding at the new stitches on his arm. "I gotta new scar too today. And broke my fuckin' mobile."

“Not to one up you, but I just set my fucking arm on fire. And I’m on the run from the law. Again,” Dean sighed bitterly, “It’s been that kinda week, and lost my phone on top it."

"Damn," Eggsy said, ignoring the glare of a nurse walking by. "You win, tiger. Your arm all right?"

“Yeah, it’s fine now; singed the hairs a bit is all. This hunt’s been a serious pain in the ass. Sam’s finishing up the flamethrowers so we can set the son of bitch on fire, but we can’t even walk into the hardware store here, ‘cause of some eager beaver rookie cop who found out we weren’t exactly FBI. Had to break into like six different houses to get all the parts.” Dean stopped, “Shit, I just wanna hear your voice. I gotta shut up. Tell me ‘bout your scar.”

"You won't believe it. I finished up a mission, got the guy. Then Rox and I are running out to the pickup point, fall down a fuckin' ravine. Got my arm, needed stitches."

Dean laughed, for the first time in days, “A fucking ravine? You can take down a room full of vamps, and a fucking hole in the ground trips you up?” Dean’s voice grew soft, “You save the world again, sweetheart?”

Eggsy blinked as a wave of emotion hit him, Dean's voice curling somewhere deep inside his chest and taking root. "Uh...yeah," he said hoarsely. "Just doin' my job though, ain't I? Not like anyone will ever know. Well....'Cept for you, tiger."

“It’s all we got, isn’t it?” Dean turned on the spot, pacing. “Listen, I gotta go gank this monster, but it’s two days, yeah?”

"Just two," Eggsy agreed. "Then it's just you, me an' a bed for the next twen'y four hours, guv."

Dean gave a small groan at the thought, then chuckled,  “That’ll motivate me when this son of a bitch comes chasing after me; fuckers are fast. But I wouldn’t miss this for the world. You fly safe okay?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy said with a fond smile. “I migh’ not be able to get to the phone much till then. Got some...paperwork to take care of an’ all that. But I’ll be dreamin’ bout you, tiger. I jus’ can’t wait.”

“Kay, next time we talk, it’ll be Seattle. Be good, Eggsy.”

“Gonna be real hard to do tha’,” Eggsy replied with a chuckle. “Goodbye, Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up - Seattle! We've written over 100K on the week-long Seattle vacation alone. I hope you'll love it as much as we do!


End file.
